


wonderstruck (blushing all the way home)

by nevernevergirl



Series: it was enchanting to meet you [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:15:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4337045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevernevergirl/pseuds/nevernevergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After leaving Neverland, Baelfire directs the shadow to take him home-- and finds himself landing back in the Enchanted Forest, in hiding from his father and once again forging a life on his own.</p><p>One afternoon, Princess Emma gets restless and decides to skip her lessons in favor of archery in the forest.</p><p>Fate takes care of the rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wonderstruck (blushing all the way home)

**Author's Note:**

> This can definitely be read alone, but it is the precursor to/part of this Enchanted Forest AU on tumblr: http://swanfireau.tumblr.com/tagged/enchanted%20forest
> 
> Thank you to Sarah for helping me pick the title!

Baelfire’s knees stung, and his fingernails were caked with dirt from where they’d dug into the ground. He let his elbows give out, flopping on to his stomach with a loud groan. 

The Shadow was gone. 

He’d done it. He was free. 

Bae rolled over on to his back, staring up at the tree branches above him. He didn’t even know where he _was_. Most worlds had trees, he suspected. He couldn’t imagine one without them, but then again— there’d been a time where he couldn’t picture a world without magic either. There were probably more worlds out there than he’d ever be able to wrap his mind around. He wondered if any of them were any good; he wondered if any of them would let him stick around.

He hadn’t thought much about where he wanted to go after Neverland— the goal had always just been to _leave._

 _“I want to go home,”_ he’d said. 

The Shadow had taken awhile to pick a direction after that; it hadn’t known what Bae meant, either. 

The sound of horses’ hooves against a gravel path startled him— he scrambled to his feet, rushing to hide behind a nearby bush. He peeked over the leaves as much as he dared, trying to catch a glimpse of the carriage driving past on the chance it gave him a hint to where he’d landed. 

His heart skipped a beat. 

It had been more years than he cared to count, but the royal crest on the carriage, the armor on the guards—

They belonged to the North Kingdom of the Enchanted Forest. 

He slumped back down, his back leaning against the bushes, shaking his head dazedly.

“Welcome home, Baelfire,” he murmured. “I’m back.”

***

Princess Emma was on the run. Which meant she possibly should have worn better shoes.

It was a Wednesday, and Wednesday had a _very_ packed schedule. School lessons in the morning— reading, arithmetic, and geography, all before noon. Archery practice with her mother after lunch, followed by fencing with her father. _That_ was all well and good. 

Until her etiquette lessons. 

She understood _why_ she had them— if only because her mother had (with varying levels of patience) attempted to explain it to her. She understood that propriety and rules were part of the Responsibility of Running a Kingdom. 

But that didn’t make them any less _boring_. 

She shouldered her bow and arrows, heading for the forest just beyond the castle gates. She really should have stopped to change, she thought, yanking off the delicate flats and gathering her skirts in her hand as she ran. 

She had probably around an hour before whichever unfortunate soul had been tasked with correcting her curtsy gathered up the courage to tell her governess she was missing, and another half hour before Johanna gave up and alerted the Queen. It wouldn’t take Mama long to find her— _she_ was the one who’d told her archery in the forest was the best escape there was. Papa always said they were exactly alike; most of the time, that sort of comment made Mama grin at her, proudly and mischievously, but Emma had a feeling she’d be more exasperated than proud once she found her.

That was okay. Emma was pretty exasperated with the lessons, so it all evened out.

(Papa said her stubbornness came from Mama, too.)

The ground was cool and damp from yesterday’s rain beneath her bare feet. She let out a small, content sigh, relaxing a little already. Emma loved the castle she’d grown up in— all its nooks and crannies, the warmth and bustle of its active court, the safety and comfort of its stone walls— but something about a walk in the forest felt like coming home. It was a little like losing herself and finding a whole world instead.

She continued her trek until she came upon a familiar clearing, dropping the shoes in her hand and readying her bow for its target. She took a deep breath, dropped her shoulder, feeling the tension in the bow for a drawn out moment before letting her arrow fly. It hit the tree trunk with a satisfying sound, and Emma grinned widely.

She continued on like that, lost in a lack of thought for a seemingly endless amount of time. Arrow after arrow flew, methodically and practiced, steadily reliable and always in her control.

Something shifted in the bushes. 

Emma whipped her head in the direction of the noise, lowering her bow—but only slightly, keeping the arrow tight against the quiver. The bushes stilled. She walked forward, slowly, quietly. 

She bit her lip, shaking her head. It was probably just a squirrel.

She took a deep breath, starting to turn back toward her target, when something most _definitely_ larger than squirrel and _very_ distinctly boy-shaped scrambled out of the bushes, running in the opposite direction. 

“Hey,” she called out loudly, before she could think on it, lowering her bow and gathering up her skirts again to run after him. “Hey, _you_! Stop!”

The boy did _not_ stop— but he did trip over a rather large tree root sticking up out of the ground. 

Emma smiled a little smugly, marching over to the boy before he could scramble up and away, placing her hands on her hips. 

“Who are you?” she asked, in her most firm, demanding voice. “And why were you hiding in my clearing?”

“I wasn’t hiding,” he said, indignantly, picking himself up and brushing the dirt off of his clothing.  “Why were _you_ shooting arrows in _my_ clearing?”

“It’s not _yours_.”

“I was there first,” he said, crossing his arms. Emma rolled her eyes.

“Were you spying on me?” she asked, bluntly. 

“What? No!” he sputtered, shaking his head. “I was taking a _nap_.”

“In the bushes?”

“Good of a place as any,” he shrugged. 

“I can think of better,” she said, wryly. “Where are you from? Where are your parents?”

“I’m from this forest, for now,” he said, leaning back against a tree. “And I don’t have any parents. Where are _yours_?”

“I’m old enough to not need a babysitter. How old are _you_?” she tried.

“206,” he grinned. Emma rolled her eyes. “Maybe 207, I lost count. What about you?”

Emma ignored him, barreling on. “What’s your name?”

“Neal,” he said, too easily. Emma narrowed her gaze.

“That’s a strange name. And it’s not _really_ yours,” she said, challengingly. “You’re lying. I can tell.”

The boy shrugged. “Were you going to tell me yours?”

“I’m not going to give my name to someone sneaking around my clearing,” she rolled her eyes.

“Well, I’m not giving _my_ name to someone firing off _weapons_ in _my_ clearing,” he shot back.

Emma groaned. 

“Fine. I’m going back to my practice. Try not to sneak up on me,” she grumbled, spinning around on the balls of her feet, stomping back toward the clearing. 

“Wait!” 

She stopped, sighing as she turned around. The boy jogged toward her, grinning almost sheepishly. 

“What now?” she glared, crossing her arms. He bit his lip, hesitating for a long moment. 

“My name is Bae,” he said, quietly. “I’m 14, but I’ll be 15 in a few days, I think. I really _did_ lose count, and I really _have_ been living here. And I really, really don’t have any parents.”

She stared for a long moment.  He nodded a little, awkwardly.

“Okay. Um. I’m just going to…” he gestured vaguely, taking a few fumbling steps back. 

“No!” Emma said quickly. Bae’s eyes widened as he stumbled, stopping in his tracks. Emma managed a small smile. “I mean. I’m Emma. And I’m 14, too, only I won’t be 15 ’til autumn.” 

He ducked his head shyly; Emma caught his grin anyway. Her cheeks felt warm; she sincerely, _completely_ hoped they weren’t turning pink. 

“Anyway. I should…I should get back to my practice. It was nice to meet you, Bae,” she said, nodding a little.

“Can I come watch?” he blurted. _His_ cheeks were just faintly red, now, and Emma tried her best to hide her grin at that. “I just mean. I haven’t…had much company out here.”

Emma bit the inside of her lip. 

“Alright, then,” she nodded. “Let’s go.”

***

Emma was very, very good at archery. 

She didn’t set a target, but Bae watched her aim— setting her sights on various spots of the clearing’s tallest tree, smiling satisfactorily as her arrows pierced the bark exactly where she intended. He watched her go like that for a long while before holding his hand up for her to pause, grinning as he ran over to the tree, swinging his arm up to grab at the lowest branch, hoisting himself onto it. 

“It’s getting boring, watching you hit the trunk over and over again,” he explained, shrugging. “Try hitting this branch. 

“You’re _on_ the branch.”

“It’s a big branch, aim for the other end,” he shrugged. “I’ve seen you shoot, you won’t hit me. Unless you’re just _chicken_.”

Emma scowled at that, immediately picking up her bow, and aiming. The arrow hit the far, narrow end of the branch; Bae grinned.

“Told you so,” he called out, already climbing up. “Try this one!”

Emma laughed, shaking her head, obliging. Bae clapped, politely, before heading up once again, as high as he could before the branches got too thin to hold him up.

“Bae!” Emma yelled. He peered down the through the leaves, grinning as she glared, her hands on her hips. “Get _down_ , you’re going to break your neck!”

“One more!” he called down. “I’ll come down when you hit this branch!”

“You’re insane!” she called back, but she was laughing. A second later, an arrow flew toward him, hitting mere inches from his thigh. He plucked it from the wood, grinning. 

“Well, _that_ was close,” he yelled down.

“I _know_ , that’s where I aimed it,” she retorted. He laughed, shimming down the tree with the arrow in hand, handing it to her with a flourish as he jump back down on to the ground.

“You’re good,” he said, simply.

“I know,” she shrugged. “My mother taught me. She’s the best archer there is. But I’m close.”

Bae laughed. “I tried to teach myself,” he shrugged. “I can hit a few things, but it’s hard, isn’t it?”

Emma raised her eyebrows. “You taught yourself?”

“I get bored,” he said, quickly. The image of Pan grabbing at his speeding arrow, the poisoned tip gone to waste, rose up in his mind, and he pushed it away, fast. “Like I said, I’m not very good."

Emma studied him for a moment, then held out her bow. “Show me.”

“I don’t—“

“Please?”

It wasn’t a polite please, he noted. It was practically expectant. He grinned a little despite himself. 

“Alright,” he said, sighing as he took the bow, and held his hand out for an arrow. She handed it to him with a smug smile on her face, and he took a deep breath, backing up a decent distance to take aim.

This bow was nice. Expensive. A lot more expensive than most things he’d ever held, he’d bet. He’d learned on one he’d made himself, stolen and cobbled together from broken bits and pieces the other Lost Boys had discarded. It had been fragile at best, and this was certainly not _that_ at its worst.

He closed his eyes and let the arrow loose. It hit the trunk, just below where he’d wanted, but close enough. He looked up; Emma smiled at him, eyebrows raised and impressed.

“Not bad,” she shrugged, walking over. She place a hand on his shoulder, gently. “Pull your shoulder down a bit, that’ll help.”

Bae stared at her, nodding wordlessly. She ducked her head, pulling her hand back quickly.

“I, um.” She blushed a little, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. Bae bit his lip. “You said you taught yourself? Why?”

“I told you, I get bored easily,” he shrugged. 

“No,” she said, evenly, tilting her head a little. “I don’t think that’s it,” she said, quietly.

Something in the pit of his stomach sank. He hoped she didn’t ask anymore questions; he was having a nice time, the first nice time he’d had in ages, and he really, _really_ didn’t want to have to ruin it with another lie. Besides, he sort of had the sneaking suspicion she’d be able to tell, anyway.

“Emma!”

A voice rang through the woods, startling them both. Emma let out of string of curses under her breath that made Bae raise _his_ eyebrows as she snatched back her bow, gathering her arrows.

“That’s my mother,” she mumbled. “It’s later than I realized, I have to go.”

He nodded, dazedly, watching her as she hurried. She gathered her skirts, raising them a few inches above the ground as she ran off, in the direction of the voice.

“I’m coming, Mama!” Emma called out. She looked back, waving at him. “It was good to meet you, Bae! I had fun!”

He watched as she ran off, his brow furrowed. 

“Yeah,” he said, quietly. “Me too.” 

He watched her ’til she ran out of sight, shaking his head as he headed back to his bushes, thinking absently that he might be able to get that nap in. 

Something shiny and expensive caught the corner of his eye. He frowned, walking over, crouching down to the ground.

Emma’s shoes. She’d been barefoot; she must have left them in her haste. He bit his lip, picking them up.

Maybe someday he’d get the chance to give them back to her. He smiled to himself; it was a nice thought.


End file.
